Hetalia Short Stories
by happyfacerajan
Summary: You are at a house party when you get mixed up with a Hetalian of your choice. {Reader Insert} - Includes Alfred (America), Gilbert (Prussia), Lovino (Romano), Arthur (England), Berwald (Sweden), Matthew (Canada) and Ivan (Russia). SEXUAL THEMES
1. Alfred (America)

As the alcohol gets to your head, the room spins and swirls. Colors blend together, creating a blur of blues, greens, and pinks.  
"I... I think I need..." To feel yourself stumbling, but you must get to a resting place.  
"Your cup can't be empty, can it?!" Someone fills up your cup, and you have a sip off the top so it doesn't spill. Instead, you swallow the majority of the liquid. Damn it! Your body begins to fall backwards, and you close your eyes, waiting for the impact. It never came. A strong arm swiftly catches your back, helping you back onto your feet.  
"T-Thank you..." Your eyes try to focus, but it is too difficult. You slide onto the chest of your savior, blacking out as you did so.

When you awoke, you were in a hotel room. Your head hurt, and you felt sticky.  
"You awake yet? Even dudes wake up sooner than you..." You jump, falling off the bed. What the hell?!  
"Woah! You okay?" Alfred's head peeks over the side of the bed, looking at you with concern.  
"How did I get here? And why are you here?!" You quickly sit up, pulling your shirt back over your shoulder as you did so.  
"You were SO smashed last night. You were laughing at stuff that wasn't even there!" Oh. That explains the headache.  
"Then why are we here instead of passed out on the floor there?" You looked at him skeptically.  
"Well, you kinda were..." He blushes a bit and runs a hand through his hair. "SO, I may have kinda carried you here!" You shake your head, chuckling.  
"You always have to be the hero, don't you?" You stand. "I'm going to shower." He doesn't reply, so you help yourself to the small bathroom. You turn the water on warm before stepping into the shower, letting out a sigh as it washes away the party. You are so busy enjoying the shower that you do not notice the door open. You suddenly open your eyes to see Alfred taking his shirt off in front of you.  
"What the hell?!" You hold up your grubby clothes to cover yourself.  
"Showering together saves water, doesn't it?" He leaves on his boxers and steps into the shower with you.  
"Plus, shouldn't a hero get a reward?"


	2. Gilbert (Prussia)

The beat booms from the speakers, and you get caught up in the music. Someone fills up your glass for the fifth time, and you can't resist the urge to take a gulp. And another. And another. You glance up from your cup for a moment, and you see a man who looks just as drunk as you feel. His silver hair is tousled with a few pieces of hot pink glitter sticking out from the edges, and his shirt is open to reveal his abdomen.  
"Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance!" People are cheering around you, and you can't help but accept the anonymous invitation. A competition begins, and you are inspired by the many people who actually know how to dance. Before you know it, you are the one in the middle of the circle. You begin, swallowing what is left in your cup, crunching it into a ball and throwing it when you finish. The man from before catches it, but you don't really care. You feel your hair clinging to your face and the beat pulsing through the soles of your shoes. This is really where you feel most... Alive. People are cheering and hollering, the sounds of everything around you ringing in your ears. No one can put you down when you're here. No one can insult you or hurt you.

You found yourself another cup, therefore filling it up again. You are too busy fist pumping to notice the same silver haired man come up behind you. He places his hands on your shoulders, twirling you towards him.  
"Oh hello there." You slur. You barely remember him at all.  
"You were dancing pretty awesome out there you know." You smile.  
"Yes. Of coarse I know. I'm awesome. So my dancing should be awesome too." He swirls what's left over in his cup disappointedly.  
"Fill me up?" You gladly pour half of your drink into his cup. He chugs it down, and you begin to dance again. You loose yourself tot he music once again, forgetting about the encounter.

"Grind much?" You spin on your heels when you hear a familiar voice behind you.  
"Sorry. Awesomeness includes grinding, incase you didn't know." He wraps his arms around your waist.  
"Of coarse I know. I'm awesome too." He slowly begins to pour his drink down your chest.  
"Sorry. Awesome people spill sometimes too." He smiles slyly, licking up your neck. Before he can, you spill your drink on him as well.  
"Two can play this game."


	3. Lovino (Romano)

You toss your drink in the trash. Many people give you disapproving looks, but you glare at them and they turn away. Why were you even invited to this shitty thing anyway? You hate parties. Because you HATE people. You stomp your way through the crowd, pushing and shoving to get to the door. What a horrible way to realize that you're claustrophobic. When you reach the door, Antonio blocks your way.  
"Leaving already?" You flip him off, slamming your fist next to his face.  
"Move, or this wall is your d*ck." He nervously steps away from the door, and you practically leap outside into the cool outside air. Until you realize that there are people outside too. You wish you had duct tape so that you could wrap each one of these happy little couples together forever. You kick a piece of gravel as hard and far as you can, and you hear someone cry out in pain. It makes you feel a little better. You reach the end of the driveway when you realize that you have to wait for your older sister to pick you up. You swear and sit on a stone next to a tomato plant. You hear some kind of wet sound, and you raise your hand to slap the next kissing couple. You hand connects with a face, and the person goes flying.

"What the f*ck?" An angry form stands in front of you, cradling his cheek.  
"Move. There are plenty of other places to make out." You proceed to pretend to pick your nails, waiting for him to move away.  
"I was eating a tomato dumbass!" He sits down next you again, and you burst out laughing.  
"A... A tomato?" You continue laughing until you can't breathe.  
"You got a problem?" The boy munches on a new tomato. You take a deep breath, clutching your stomach.  
"Out of all the things you could be doing... Eating a tomato? You're at a party."  
"I could say the same to you, slapping b*tch." You glare at him.  
"Slapping b*tch? Is that my new name?" He doesn't reply, but you don't need one.  
"My real name is (y/n). I hate people, so you're one of the few people who know my name." You don't know why you decided to introduce yourself, but it just felt... Right.  
"Tsk. My name is Lovino." He passes you a tomato.  
"That's to shut you up." He mumbles something then. Something that sounds a lot like 'Slapping b*tch'. You have a feeling that he cherishes tomatoes above all else, so you come up with the perfect come back.  
"You know, tomatoes are DISGUSTING." You pinch the skin of the tomato. Lovino freezes.  
"They're.. Slimy. And sugary... Ick." You wind up your arm to throw the tomato, but his hand reaches up and stops it before you can. His full body weight pins you to the ground, and the air rushes out of you.  
"They are delicious." He takes a bite of the tomato, lowering his mouth to yours.  
"You will love them once I'm through with you."


	4. Arthur (England)

You make you way upstairs to the makeshift drink bar. A fairly large crowd is clustered around the counter, and you try to push your way to the front. You begin to worry as you pass people with blood leaking down their face from their noses, but you continue none the less.  
"Just take the bloody glass! I don't care if it's not what you ordered!" You slow down.  
"Oh shut up you git!" That accent. Oh dear. You hear a splash, and vodka rains down on everyone.  
"I told you once, and you didn't listen! Take. The. Bloody. Drink." Many of the people infront of you scurry away, and a path is cleared. What you see takes you breath away. Arthur is shirtless, a tie hanging loosely around his neck. A short waiter's apron is tied around his waist, and you can't tell whether or not he has anything else underneath it. He looks up from whatever he was making, his gaze landing on you. You hurry up to the counter, trying not to make eye contact.  
"W-What kind of things do you have here?" He stares at you before angrily rattling down the list of multiple alcoholic beverages.  
"What will it be? You ain't got all bloody day." You do not want any of the things he said, but you don't want to anger him more. Before you can reply, a very quiet high pitched whistle comes from behind the door to the kitchen. Alfred's eyes panic, and he begins tapping in fingers on the glass. You notice that people are beginning to crowd again, and your palms begin to sweat. You suddenly recognize the whistling sound as a tea kettle. It is unmistakable.  
"I-I can run this for a while if y-you would like." What the hell are you saying? Arthur grabs your hand, pulling you behind the counter. He passes you a black package.  
"Go into the kitchen and get changed. And turn off the-" Before he can finish, you rush through the doors to the kitchen.

You set down the package on the table and quickly turn off the kettle. You place a tea bag into a cup and pour the hot water over it. You manage to find a cookie and place it on the rim of the saucer. You turn back to the package, and you begin to change into the waiting clothes. You try to pull the tight white button up over your head, but it doesn't seem to fit over your breasts. Instead, you unbutton the top few buttons and slip in on. You zip up the short black skirt before heading back into the crowd. Alfred rushes passed you into the kitchen, leaving you to fend for yourself.

After a few minutes, you realize why Arthur was on the verge of insanity.  
"Nice boobs!" A hand reaches for your chest, and you slam a martini glass on it. For the next hour, you and Arthur switch off, taking shifts. When the crowd finally calms down, you both retreat to the kitchen, sighing.  
"Did you volunteer to do that?" Arthur shook his head, sipping his third cup of tea.  
"Who in the right mind would? I lost a bet to Alfred is all." You dunk your cookie into the tea, chewing it slowly. Arthur looks like he wants to say something, but his mouth betrays him.  
"I-If I might say.. Y-Your shirt is..." He blushes slightly. He points to wear buttons would be, and you look down. You let out a small yelp, fumbling with the buttons on the shirt. You had forgotten to re-button your shirt, and much of your cleavage was showing. Your face was practically steaming, so to cover it you choked down the rest of your tea. An awkward silence rested in the air. Arthur stood up and placed his dish into the dishwasher, holding his hand out for yours. Before you handed your dishes to him, you grabbed your teabag. You placed it on your tongue and began to suck the rest of the tea from it.  
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Arthur was blushing profusely, backing away from you.  
"What?" You pulled the teabag out of your mouth slowly, making sure you didn't spill any tea.  
"You don't suck the teabag?" You placed it back in your mouth, sucking any left over tea. Arthur suddenly began walking towards you, leaning very close to your face.  
"I've never heard of that. But if you want, there is another teabag that you can suck~"


	5. Berwald (Sweden)

The room began to tilt, adrenaline rushing through your veins.  
"What is in this drink?" You could no longer remember the person who handed you the cup, but you knew it was laced with something. The floor gave out beneath you, and you slumped against a wall. You tried to shuffle away from the crowd like always, but you tripped over your foot and landed on someone that you did not know.  
"I-I am d-deeply s-sorry..." You grabbed hold of the nearest thing to you, which happened to be a doorknob. You fell through the door and into the room, collapsing onto the floor. As you were fading out, you were disappointed in yourself. If only you would have left while you could...

You heard a knock. You were in a pitch black room, and someone was knocking. Your hands were tied behind your back, with tape covering your mouth.  
"Hello?" You could hear someone on the other side of the door, but you couldn't open it. You tried inching closer to the door, but there was something in the way.  
" Is anyone here?" You wanted badly to call out to whoever was there, but you couldn't even make a sound. Tears began leaking out of your eyes and down your cheeks. What if you were never found? What if you died here? Starvation? What about thirst? You tried to scream, but a gag was stuffed in your mouth.  
" No one in here." Footsteps began to walk away, and you frantically moved your legs. They made a shallow thumping sound, but the person was too far away to hear it. You felt your eyes widen in fear. They couldn't forget you here, could they? Someone would find you, right? You didn't know how long it was, but you eventually cried yourself to sleep.

You awoke to voices.  
"Are you sure she's here, Su-san?"  
"Hm." You heard footsteps coming closer.  
"Wasn't this the last place you saw her?"  
"Hm." The doorknob rattled. You tried to move your legs, but they were cramped and could not move. Tears began running down your face again.  
"I don't know if she's here, Berwald." One of the people started walking away.  
"It's locked. I'll check here." A loud banging started at the doorknob, and you jumped. What if they were killers? What if it wasn't a friend on the other side? The doorknob fell, and the door opened. A flashlight blinded your eyes, and a hand came towards you. You tried to move, but you had nowhere to go. Tears were freely running down your face now, and you couldn't stop them. The flashlight fell, and strong arms wrapped around you. A fragile hand tugged away the tape over your mouth, and you took a deep breath.  
"Are you alright?" A deep voice whispered in your ear, and you nodded.  
"Now I am." You reached up and kissed him on the cheek.  
"Thank you. Thank you so much."


	6. Matthew (Canada)

You stare at the red cup in your hand with a frightened look on your face. Is this stuff even legal?Placing the cup on a table, you slyly walk away. It's not like anyone would notice you anyway. You try to find a quiet place to sit down and relax, but the places that are are covered with unidentifiable substances. You sigh inwardly. Why did you even come here? It's not like anything good will come out of it. If only life was like a Disney movie... You snap out of it. The man of your dreams won't come after you if you loose a shoe here. Someone throws up a few inches away from your face, and you grimace. This sucks. A lot. You find that wearing your sweatshirt was definitely the wrong choice, and fanning yourself does not help. Stumbling through the doorway, you trip over a loose stone and crash to the ground.  
"Owwwwww..." You stand up, supporting yourself on the doorframe. Your knee is throbbing as well as your ankle, and your palms are red. What's worse is that no one noticed. No one looked up from their make out session to see you epically fail. But maybe that's a good thing. Limping, you curb around the slobbering couples and make your way around to the right side of the house. The slight breeze nips at your exposed knee, and you wince. You were never good with pain. You suddenly feel as if someone is watching you, and you look behind you nervously. Instead of peering behind you like a normal person, you proceed to fall backwards into the grass. At least it wasn't stone this time.  
"H-Hey. A-Are you alright?" A pale hand reaches towards you, but you are too surprised to reply. Someone noticed you? The hand starts to retract, but you grab it before it can.  
"T-Thanks." The person hoists you off the ground, the first help that you've had in months.  
"Y-You're bleeding..." You look down at your knee and realize that it isn't just a small scrape like you had originally thought.  
"I fell a few minutes ago." The person nods. In the darkness of the night, you can't quite tell if the person is a boy or a girl. Their voice is almost at a whisper, and the bulky sweater doesn't really help. You pause. That description fits you as well. Deciding to clear up this confusion, you hold out your hand.  
"I'm (y/n). " The person shakes you hand, smiling gently.  
"I'm Matthew." Welp. That clears up some things. Once you conclude that this person is a male, you do see some physical qualities that could have helped you out. He's a few inches or so taller than you, for one. He also has a well defined jawline and collarbone.  
"I have a question if you don't mind..." His voice is a little softer this time, but you don't have to strain to hear it. You hear an even softer voice every time you accidentally talk to yourself.  
"Y-Yes?" You aren't really used to having a normal conversation with someone, so your replies are awkward and fumbled.  
"You a-aren't s-some imaginary person, a-are you?" Matthew looks you in the eyes, as if testing something.  
"I guess I would ask the s-same to you... B-But I'm a real person! I think, anyways..." Matthew smiles. He laughs a little, relieved.  
"I-It's j-just that you're one of the first people that can see me..." You blink. Is he your twin or something?

It really is refreshing to speak to someone who goes through the same kind of problems you do. You relax more than you have in weeks, lying out on the grass. Suddenly, you hear footsteps. And loud voices. Drunk voices.  
"Oh no." You roll towards the house, trying to avoid being stepped on. Matthew crouches next to you.  
"HEEEEEY MAAAAAN!" You gulp when you realize that you are being talked to. That you have to engage in human conversation. A large hand swoops down and pulls you to your feet.  
"YOU DON'T HAVE A DRINK? THE HELL MAN!" A drink is forcefully pushed into your hands. The people lumber off to wherever, and you are left with a large bruise on your shoulder.  
"A-Are you okay?" Matthew emerges from his hiding place, and you nod.  
"I've had worse." You glance at the yellow liquid in the cup, and you slosh it around. Big mistake. Your wrist decides to spasm, making you slosh the liquid harder than you were before. Resulting in the beverage to be spilled all over Matthew.  
"I-I'm so s-sorry..." He shrugs.  
"I-It's fine.." He moves to wipe it off with his hand, but stops himself. Who knows what that yellow liquid was.  
"I don't h-have a p-paper towel or anything. S-sorry..." He shrugs again. He lifts his hands behind his head, grabbing the back of his sweatshirt. In one motion, his sweatshirt comes off, leaving him in a tight tanktop. You blush instantly, looking away. Matthew looks at you questioningly.  
"W-What's wrong?" His voice is still the same, he's still the same person... So why do you feel so...  
"I-I'm j-just hot..." You hope that he falls for it. You really do.  
"Then take of your sweatshirt." He suddenly sounds way more controlling than he did a moment ago, so you nod without thinking and pull off your sweatshirt. Both of you are left in tight white tank tops. You notice him turn away suddenly. Hm.  
"BOMBS AWAYYYYY!" You look up to see a giant bucket being poured over the edge of a window. A window directly above Matthew.  
"Matthew...!" You try to warn him, but you are three seconds too late. Matthew is already covered in some clear liquid by the time you choke out your warning. As much as you want to see if he's okay, you blush and walk backwards a few paces instead. He is taking off his tank now. Oh god. He has abs.  
"Don't try to tell me you're 'hot' again." You turn around. Matthew is dripping with alcohol, topless. He flips his hair out of his eyes, spraying the liquid onto you.  
"You got wet. Take off your tanktop?"


	7. Ivan (Russia)

You sit silently in a corner of the room, calmly assessing the party and it's contents. To your right, two people are making out. Or are they? They look like dogs. To your left, a row of random guys you don't know are talking and laughing. You would love to dump your drink right on their heads, if you had one. What would they do? Would they continue to laugh and drink like nothing had happened? Or would they assault you? One of them meets your eyes, and you quickly look down to your lap. Getting noticed is not what you're here for. You reach into your hoodie and pull out what looks like a lump of fabric. You slowly unravel the strips of fabric to reveal your camera, and you quickly uncap the lens. You push yourself further into the corner before settling the camera on your palm and raising the viewfinder to your eye. The world comes into focus as you slide the degrees around the lens. You look around once more. There has to be something worthy of the newspaper in this dump... Your eye catches on two boys sheepishly heading into the bathroom. You snap the picture and chuckle to yourself. These moments are ones you cherish. The snap of the camera, the blink of the lens... It's all fantastic. But the best part is the despair on their faces when they see the new headline, complete with HD images.

You don't know how long it's been, but you begin to feel cramps running down your arm and shoulder from holding up the camera. You slide the strap around your neck and re-wrap the camera, hiding it in your hoodie's inside pocket. You bed over to look under your chair for anything you may have left. You spot your camera lens and reach under the chair, trying to get ahold of the thin sheet of plastic. Your fingers slide over the edge, and it's almost in your grasp. You suddenly feel a strong hand land on your shoulder, and you jolt up, dropping the lens cap. You're met face to face with pale purple eyes.  
"Hello!" The man smiles, but it doesn't make you think that he's happy.  
"H-Hey." You want him to remove his hand. You know he feels your discomfort, but he refuses to move. If anything, it feels heavier on your arm than before.  
"You've been here for a while, haven't you?" You nod, shifting a little. The cramp in your shoulder worsens.  
"It's seems you are a photographer..." He holds up the lens cap, and you grasp for it. He willingly lets you take it.  
"I am." You don't really want to spend too much time with him. You don't like socializing too much int he first place, and he's slightly creeping you out. You stand, making him drop his hand off your shoulder. You begin to walk away, to find a new place to capture your photos.  
"I'm fascinated by photography!" You turn slowly.  
"Really? Everyone I know is turned off by it. They think it's boring. Isn't that horrible?!" You can't stop your mouth from moving. Finally, after all this time, you find someone who understands!  
"Pictures are... Are... They capture the beauty of the world! They fast freeze things that can't be remembered clearly, they stop time!" He nods as you rattle on and on about your wonderful photography, and occasionally he replies with "Yes of coarse." Or "I understand completely."

Your mouth is dry from talking so much, and you can barely breathe. You stop for a moment, assessing where you are for the first time in a while. You don't know how you've moved to a couch, nor how you have disassembled your camera and laid the pieces on your lap. You look up to meet the gaze of this mystery person, and for the first time, you look at him. His skin is very pale, but not thin enough to see his veins. His eyes are the deepest shade of lavender, which is complimented by his blush colored scarf. He is wearing a tan shirt and cargo pants. You look up to his face again, and he smiles his not-so-friendly smile.  
"Would you like some water?" His words are in the form of a question, but the way he says it is a command.  
"S-Sure..." You are weary as he stands up and disappears into the other room. Why didn't you notice the way that people flee when he is near? Although you are almost the same. If someone sees a camera in your hands, they had better run. He comes back with a cup filled with water, and you accept it gratefully. You take a sip and almost gag. This is water? You figure that maybe the place just has a really bad filtering system...

What are you talking about? Where are you? Who are you talking to? The room is blurred. You take another sip from your cup. The water might clear your mind. Instead, it makes you feel even more dizzy. You slump over, landing on the shoulder of whoever is in front of you. The almost empty cup is jerked out of your hands.  
"More of this...Excuse me?...No, it's Vodka..." Your eyes widen. You sit up again, feeling light headed.  
"Whatd id your jurst say?" Your speech is distorted. A new cup is forced into your hands.  
"Please continue what you were saying about talking pictures." The man in front of you is leaning in your ear, whispering. You shiver and look into the cup. The substance is clear, but you know now that it isn't water.  
"You... Yout trickeded moi!" You clumsily slam the cup onto the table.  
"Hm?" The man looks at you innocently.  
"Water? Thisis VODKA!" You try to stand, but fall onto the lap of the pale man.  
"Oh dear. I was planning to do this later, but..." Your hands are forced behind your back and tied with something. You notice his scarf is gone.  
"What..." He slings you over his shoulder and begins making his way upstairs. You punch his back multiple times, but his hold doesn't loosen. You enter an empty room, and you hear the door lock. You're thrown onto the floor. You try to stand, but to no avail.  
"We can't have you moving around now, can we?" You are pulled up from the floor and tossed onto a bed. You're dragged backwards by your hands to the bedframe, and you feel a new knot forming. The mans hands pull away from you, and you wriggle around, trying to get away. Your hands are tied tightly around the bedpost, and there is nothing you can do about it. The protective sleeve for your camera is tied around your mouth, gagging you. Your eyes focus enough to see your camera in the hands of the man who is now crawling towards you.  
"Let's take some pictures now, shall we?"


End file.
